Comfort Food
by arollercoasterthatonlygoesup
Summary: After her fiance ends things with her to pursue a relationship with her best friend, Katniss Everdeen goes to a local bakery looking for some comfort food. What she doesn't count on, however, is how much of a comfort the baker himself will be to her. (Modern AU.)
1. Chocolate Cake and Confessions

"Hello!" the blonde guy behind the counter says before the door is even completely shut behind me. He's grinning as he wipes his flour-covered hands on his apron. "What can I get for you?"  
"I'll take a coffee and a piece of chocolate cake, please," I sit down at the counter, and then, remembering the diet that Miss Hawthorne laid out for me, I add, "actually, can you make that two pieces of cake?"  
"Sure! Coming right up!" he's almost too chipper. "It's really coming down out there, isn't it?"  
"Yes," I say. "It is."  
"We might be stuck here for a while." He says, pouring my coffee.  
"I'll be fine."  
He makes a noncommittal noise. "You can stay here until it passes, if you'd like."  
"I'll be _fine_." I repeat. "It's just rain."  
"It's not the rain I'm concerned about. It looks like tornado to me."  
I sigh, remembering the warning I heard on the radio this afternoon. "Great. This is just what I needed."  
"Bad day?" he sets the cake in front of me.  
"More than you know."  
"Do you want to talk about it?"

* * *

_"I think that it's better this way, really, for all of us." she had said, moving closer to him, as if to mark her territory. "You weren't really happy with him, were you? You were just going to marry him because he asked, right?"  
She always did this, even when we were kids, twisted situations around until I looked ridiculous for being upset.  
She continued before I even had the chance to answer. "That's what I thought. Now you're free to go find someone that can make you happy. She deserves that, right, Gale?"  
"Of course." He nodded. "You do, Catnip."  
"Don't call me that."  
"I always call you that."  
"I don't want you to call me that. I don't want you to call me anything, anymore, actually. Neither of you," I had just gotten started. I could feel my face getting hot with anger.  
"I think it might be best if you leave," Gale suggested. "I'll send you your things."  
In a fit of rage, I called it a loss. "Keep them. Give them to her."  
"You should leave now, Katniss." His tone was icy. "Before you say something you regret."  
_

* * *

Somehow, before I've even finished my cake, I've told this friendly stranger everything, from the fact that we've been friends for as long as I can remember, to the fact that my little sister is even dating his little brother.  
"He's a moron." He says simply.  
For the first time in hours, I smile. "Sorry for dumping everything on you." I say.  
"Don't worry about it."  
"You're actually the first person that I've told," I admit.  
"Really?" the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, and I can't help but to think about how attractive he is. I should probably feel bad, thinking about that when not even twenty four hours ago I was an engaged woman, but it almost feels good. Just to spite Gale, I almost wish that there were more handsome men around.  
"Really," I tug on the end of my braid. "I took the long way home just in case my mom tried to call me about wedding stuff. I get terrible service out here."  
"How will your family take the news?"  
"My mom will be disappointed," I say. "But only because she'll be afraid that I'll be lonely without him. As far as my little sister, she'll probably be furious with both of them. I hate that this happened for her, because now things will be so uncomfortable between her and Rory. That's why I'm not exactly eager to break the news."  
"I can't say I blame you."  
"I have to fire the wedding planner." I realize. "I have to call my great-aunt and tell her. I have to tell my boss that I don't need those two weeks off."  
"I'm sorry," he says, and I'm surprised by how sincere he sounds.  
"It's not your fault." I say.  
"You've got to tell me, though,"  
"What?"  
"Did he get to see you with that lipstick on?"  
I nod. I had completely forgotten about the cherry red lipstick that the makeup artist had used this morning until right now. "It was a makeup test for the wedding. Why?"  
He smiles, obviously satisfied. "I'm just glad that he got to see what he's missing out on."  
His words surprise me. "Oh?"  
"Like I said before, he's a moron."  
Is he _flirting_ with me?  
"It looks like it's starting to clear up," he says, nodding towards the window. "I would probably give it another few minutes, though. Just to be safe."  
"How much do I owe you?"  
"Oh, don't worry about that."  
"I can pay."  
"I don't doubt that."  
"I don't want to get you in trouble." I say. "I'll pay."  
"You won't get me in trouble." He laughs. "My brothers eat more than this on a daily basis."  
I realize that he's not going to tell me how much I owe him. "If you're sure."  
"Of course I am."  
Despite his protests, I drop a ten dollar bill in the tip jar.  
"If you'll just let me close things up real quick, I can walk with you."  
"To my car?"  
He chuckles, obviously uncomfortable. "I... Um… You've just had such a hard night that I just thought that maybe you wouldn't want to walk alone. That's all."  
"Sure," I say. "Let's walk to my car."  
This makes him grin.

"So, if you ever need to talk or anything, feel free to come by. My name is Peeta."  
"I'm Katniss." I offer. "Katniss Everdeen."  
"Maybe we can go get something to eat or something."  
I raise my eyebrows at him. Was he not paying attention to my story?  
"It just looks like you're in the market for a new best friend. I wouldn't try to be… anything else. Unless you wanted me to."  
"This is true," I say. "I could stand for a friend on the eighteenth,"  
He smiles. "I'll be there."  
"I'll come by here sometime, too."  
"I look forward to it."  
"Yeah," I say, surprising myself. "I do, too."

**Author's Note:  
Should I continue this? Let me know what you think. Reviews are love!  
**


	2. What Friends Are For

"Mellark Bakery, how may I help you?"  
"Hello. Is Peeta working tonight?"  
"Nope. It's his day off. Is there anything I could help you with?"  
"Do you know when he'll be working again?"  
"Nope, sorry. He'll probably come in later today to pick up his check though; can I give him a message for you?"  
I'm suddenly convinced that this is the worst plan I've ever had. Surely he was just being polite when he said that we should talk about things. "Um, yes, thank you. Could you let him know that Katniss Everdeen called?"  
"Yep! That all?"  
"Oh, if you could make sure that he knows that I was the one that came in during the storm a few nights ago, that would be great."  
I don't feel any more confident about it when I leave my phone number.

* * *

_I regret to inform you that due to unforeseen circumstances regarding the Hawthorne and Everdeen wedding,_ I type, _I will have to cancel my flower order. The ones that you showed me really were lovely and I will certainly come back if ever I find myself in need of flowers, and if my friends ever need a florist, I will certainly recommend your business. Thank you for all of your help. _  
I'm distracted from my email when my phone rings.  
"Hello?"  
"Katniss? It's Peeta Mellark. My brother said that you called the bakery?"  
"I did."  
"How are you handling things?"  
"Adequately." I say, typing my name and sending the email. "I got off work early and I've been doing wedding-cleanup since then. My family knows, my boss knows, I cancelled the cake, and I just fired the florist. I'm getting really sick of all this wedding cleanup."  
"You know, if you want to talk about things, the offer still stands."  
"Really?" I ask.  
"Of course,"

* * *

"Prim already knew. She found out late last night because her boyfriend saw Gale with some blonde. She was about to sit me down and break the news today. I think she was relieved when she realized that she wouldn't have to be the bearer of bad news."  
"How did your mother take the news? As expected?" he asks. I'm surprised that he even remembered that I had a prediction.  
"As expected," I agree. "I'm mostly just relieved she didn't cry. I kept making up worst-case scenarios in my head. I think that's why it took me two days to finally tell them."  
If he's surprised that it took me so long, he doesn't act like it.  
"After I was finished with that, I really wanted someone to talk to, and I actually almost called Madge before I realized why I shouldn't. That's when I wound up calling the bakery."  
He nods.  
"I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to bother on your day off."  
"Oh, don't mention it."  
"I'm serious. You didn't have to do this."  
"What are friends for?"  
I can't exactly argue with this. "Then thank you, Peeta, for being my friend."  
"Thank you for being mine."  
I see someone familiar out of the corner of my eye and when I turn to take a closer look, I realize who she is. Madge Undersee, and sitting across from her, thankfully as oblivious as she is, is Gale. I feel as if I've been punched in the stomach when she leans over and grabs a fry from his tray and I hear his loud, booming laugh.  
"I thought you ordered a salad, Undersee,"  
Afraid of being seen by either of them, I hide behind my menu. "That's them,"  
"Who?" Peeta has made a shield similar to mine, but I'm sure that his is a joke. "Where?"  
"At the table over there." I say, jerking my head in their general direction. "Madge and Gale."  
He glances over quickly, only lowering his menu-shield for a second. "Should we go?"  
I think about it for a few seconds, and even though I'm trying to be firm, my voice is shaky. "No."  
"Are you sure?"  
"I'm sure _enough_. Don't let me talk myself into leaving." I say. "Please."  
He nods and slowly lowers his menu. "Do you see this roll?" he asks, lifting up the bread basket.  
I nod, setting my menu on top of his. I'm so grateful that he's trying to distract me.  
He starts to explain the process that goes into making them. Explaining how they make some at the bakery and showing me a scar on his hand from burning it on the oven trying to take a sheet of them out.  
"I didn't know baking was so dangerous," I tease.  
"Oh, it is." he holds out both of his hands for me to examine. "I have a lot of scars from baking."  
And he does. He explains how many times he would have to sit with his hands in ice. "It's a Mellark boy trait." he smiles. "My grandfather has them, my father has them, and so do my brothers. I have a few more than my brothers, though."  
"Why?"  
"I started younger than they did and I've stuck with it longer."  
He glances over at Madge and Gale's table, and I follow his eyes. It's empty now, and I catch a glimpse of blonde hair walking out. He laughs. His blue eyes are absolutely shining.  
"What?" I ask. "What's so funny?"  
He's laughing so hard that it takes him a while to get the words that he's looking for out. "Nothing… It's just… He's a moron. He's a complete and total moron."  
I can feel my cheeks getting hot. I try to change the subject as quickly as I can. "So, then, if you're the expert on bread, what kind of bun should I get my burger on?"

**Author's Note: **  
**It seems that the general consensus is to continue this story, so this story is my priority at the moment. Thanks for your support! As always, reviews are love! **


	3. The Box

"Hey, Katniss!" he grins when he sees me, and I feel confident that I was right to come to the bakery again. "Cake?"  
"Hey, Peeta," I smile. "Yes please."  
"How have you been holding up?" he asks, setting the plate down on the counter.  
"The wedding planner cried." I tell him, sitting down. "I wasn't prepared for that."  
"I'm sorry."  
I shrug. "I think I'm finished canceling things, now if I can just make my family stop sending their condolences, I'll be in the clear."  
"If there's anything I can do, just let me know."  
"I will." I take a bite of the cake, which all but melts in my mouth. "Maybe next time I send out a mass email you can help me find a way to make it clear that I don't really need to hear from them all more than once."  
He grins. "I could probably manage something for you. Any other problems?"  
"I have a box of his stuff at my house and I don't even know what to do with it,"  
"Drop it off a cliff? Set it on fire? I don't see a bad option here."  
"I'll probably just leave it at his place so he doesn't try to contact me about it. I think I can time things right I won't have to deal with him at all."  
"I can drop it off for you if you want," he offers.  
"Maybe you can go with me,"  
"Sounds good to me." he smiles.  
"I was kind of thinking about going tonight?"  
He glances behind him at the bright red clock on the wall. "I'm closing up here in about an hour and a half. If you don't mind waiting, we can go then. Maybe we can ride together. I can pick you up at your place so you can get the stuff together."  
I really hope that he doesn't think that this is a date. "Sure," I say. "That would be nice."

* * *

I wipe my eyes one last time before I get into his car. I hate the stupid box I'm carrying and all of the stupid things in it, but part of me is loath to get rid of it.  
"Where to, boss?" Peeta asks.  
I give him the address and lean back in my seat, watching the stars through the sunroof.  
"I don't normally go on recon missions when it's so dark out." he says softly, obviously testing the waters. When I don't glare at him, he continues, "I feel like we should have black stripes under our eyes,"  
He grins when I chuckle.  
"I don't know how much more of this I can handle." I say honestly. I'm too exhausted to even be ashamed when my voice cracks. This won't be the first time I've cried in the last hour.  
"This whole mess will be over soon," his tone is reassuring. "I promise, Katniss."  
"It's not going to be over," I say. "This is going to be who I am now, Peeta. I'm never going to be anything more than the poor girl that got dumped three weeks before her wedding for her best friend, am I?"  
"No," he says softly. "You're not. You're more than that."  
I roll my eyes.  
"I think you'll feel better once you get rid of the box," he makes a turn. "It's symbolic, you know?"  
"I guess." I say.  
"It'll be okay," he tells me, smiling softly.  
"You're probably right." I say.  
"I'm always right,"  
"Be careful," I say. "I might take you up on that whole dropping-the-box-off-of-a-cliff thing after all."

* * *

"Hey, Katniss?" Peeta asks as we get onto the elevator.  
"Yeah?"  
"This building is pretty high. I mean, it's no cliff, but…"  
I smile and he grins at me.  
"There you go," he says.  
The elevator doors begin to slide shut but someone reaches the elevator in time to stick a hand through and open the doors again. I get a good look at him and I try to hide behind Peeta when I see just who is getting in with us. Gale nods at Peeta and looks concerned, for lack of a better word, as he tries to figure out why I could possibly be hiding behind him.  
"Katniss?" he asks as the doors slide shut. "Is that you?"  
I can only nod.

**Author's Note:  
I am terribly sorry for the wait! I have been trying to do a Friday thing but life has gotten in the way. In apology, this chapter was posted as soon as I finished it and the next chapter will be posted tomorrow, then we should be able to get back to the Friday updates.  
Thank you so much for your support with this story so far!  
**


	4. Bravery

"What are you doing here?"  
I step out from behind Peeta, who has been an admirable shield, but I can't manage to find any suitable words. I feel as if a fire is burning through me, erasing any trace of the crying girl in Peeta's car and leaving a furious one in her place.  
"Catnip?" he asks.  
"I told you not to call me that." I remind him, gripping the sides of the box, trying to swallow the urge to drop it on his feet.  
"Fine, what are you doing here, Katniss?"  
I don't answer him.  
"Come on, I think I deserve an answer. You fall off the face of the earth for two weeks and then you show up in my apartment complex?"  
"You don't deserve anything from me." I manage to keep my voice even.  
"This wouldn't have anything to do with me, would it?"  
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm and not think about just how small the elevator seems.  
When I don't respond, Gale glances between the two of us, obviously trying to figure out why we're here together. I'm mad that he thinks he has the right to be irritated about it. Some ridiculous part of me almost wants to reach over and grab Peeta's hand, just to fan the flames, but I stay where I am.  
"We were best friends for so long and I just thought that maybe-"  
"We're not doing this." I say. My voice is rising now, but it's better than crying. I refuse to cry in front of him. Not tonight. "I don't want to talk about it."  
He raises his eyebrows, but remains silent.  
"This stuff is yours." I say, holding it out. He doesn't move to take it. "Take it. I don't want any of it."  
He sighs and grabs it, mumbling something about my flair for the dramatic. I tell him to shut up and turn away from him, wishing that I could just disappear.  
Peeta presses a button, giving me a reassuring smile, and I clamp my eyes shut until I hear the doors open. Peeta walks out directly behind me, and I hold my breath until I'm sure that Gale isn't following us.  
Other than him clearing his throat a few times as if he wants to say something, we walk down the stairs in silence. I can all but feel the resolve I had in the elevator crumbling. I hate myself for crying by the time we reach the parking lot.  
"He's a moron," Peeta says softly, no hint of joking in his voice.  
"I know." I say, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder.  
"It could be worse,"  
"How?"  
"You could have actually gone through with the wedding and been stuck with him."  
My laugh sounds more like a cough, but he smiles anyway.  
"Let's get you home, alright?" he asks.  
I wipe my eyes with the backs of my hand and nod. "Thanks, Peeta."  
"Oh, anytime." He says, and I believe him.

"I just wanted to let you know," he stops in front of the door to my apartment. He had insisted on riding up with me, making a joke about unwanted passangers that I couldn't quite laugh at. "I think you were really brave tonight."  
"Not really." I say. "But thank you."  
"I'm serious!" he grins. "You kept your composure."  
"Did not!"  
"Did too!"  
"I told him to shut up." I protest. "That's not very composed."  
"Fine. Say whatever you want about your composure, but you _were_ brave." He tells me matter-of-factly. "Whatever you say, bread boy," I say.  
He laughs, those blue eyes locking onto mine like there's something more he'd like to say. He doesn't say anything else, though, he just watches me for a few seconds before he looks away, seemingly nervous.  
"What?" I ask.  
"Nothing," his voice is quieter than I've ever heard it, even when he was trying to comfort me in the car.  
"Peeta,"  
"Katniss," he mimics my tone, a teasing smile taking over the look of nervousness. "I'm probably going to sound like a jerk for saying this, but I had fun tonight. Other than the part with Gale, obviously."  
"So did I." I say. "It was also really fun to piss him off by having you there, but that was just a plus."  
He laughs. "Goodnight, Katniss."  
"Goodnight, Peeta,"  
Neither of us move towards the door.  
"I, uh," he looks nervous all over again and I wonder what I did. "Goodnight."  
"Goodnight." I say again, unlocking the door. "Can I call you tomorrow?"  
"Yeah, of course."  
"Great," I say. "I'll talk to you then. Thanks again, Peeta."  
"It's honestly not a problem."  
I smile at him, stepping inside. He waves again and turns to leave. I don't shut the door until he's out of sight.

**Author's Note:  
Thanks again for all the reviews and love you've been giving this story! I'm going to really, really try to stay on schedule next week. **


	5. The Overlook

"How are you doing today?" he asks once we've said our hellos.  
"You got right to the point there, didn't you?" I joke. "I'm fine, I guess. It helps not having his stuff around. I mostly want to go to work but Cinna doesn't think I should today since I'm probably emotionally unstable."  
"Well, I was going to see if you were busy because I was thinking about heading up to the overlook,"  
"Overlook?"  
"You've never been?" he asks, sounding scandalized.  
"Nope." I say. "I didn't know there was one."  
"Do you want to go with me?" he asks. "I can pick you up."  
"Are you sure?" I ask. "I can just follow you there."  
"Of course I'm sure."  
"Thank you," I say.  
"Don't mention it."

"This is my favorite place. I come here all the time to think," he tells me when he opens my door. "I found it on accident when I first got my license."  
"I've never seen anything like it." I tell him honestly. I've never even seen the city from this height. The lights shine brightly in the darkness, but we're far enough away that I can only guess which building is which. It's one of the most gorgeous things I've ever seen.  
"Not many people have," he says. I can barely make him out in the dim light coming from town. "I've never showed it to anyone until tonight."  
"Really?" I ask.  
He nods. Yep,"  
I smile; surprised that he thinks highly enough of me to share his favorite place with me.  
"I thought you might like it." He sits down on the little stone wall and I climb up beside him.  
"I do." I say.  
"I'm glad," he smiles. I can see him more clearly now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness. He doesn't look nervous like he was last night, so obviously whatever he was going to say isn't important anymore.  
"Thank you for sharing this place with me," I say, and he turns to look at me, the city lights reflected in his eyes. "It means a lot to me, knowing how special this place is to you."  
"I figured you probably need it more than I do." He tells me. "I meant what I said last night, you know, about you being brave."  
I decide not to ruin this by arguing with him again. "Thanks,"  
It's quiet, and he stares back out at the city. I let my eyes follow his.  
"The wedding would have been a week from today." I tell him.  
"I'm sorry."  
"I just can't wait for it to be over." I admit. "I bet you'll be glad, too."  
"Why?" he seems mystified.  
"Oh, come on. Don't pretend you're not tired of all of my complaining."  
"I'm not."  
"Seriously?" I ask. "Because I'm kind of irritating myself."  
"Seriously," he reassures me, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I like hanging out with you."  
"I like hanging out with you, too." I say. It's obvious that I'm getting the better end of this situation. I just don't see what he gains from hanging out with me.  
He grins.  
"Hey, Peeta?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I really like this place."  
"Good."  
"I won't tell anyone about it." I say. "Your secret is safe with me."  
"I know," he says. "I wouldn't have showed you otherwise."  
"Do you ever come here during the day?" I ask.  
"A few times, but I like it more at night,"  
We sit in silence for a few minutes.  
"So," I say. "I've always just kind of assumed that you're really good at emphasizing. Your fiancée has never ended things a few weeks before your wedding, am I correct?"  
"Yes."  
"And that you're content with your job at the bakery?"  
"Yes."  
"And that you grew up here?"  
"Yes."  
"And that your family owns the bakery?"  
"Yes."  
"And that your girlfriend is totally okay with the amount of time you're spending hanging out with me?" the words are out of my mouth before I even know what I'm saying. I bite my cheeks.  
He laughs. "Nope, no girlfriend,"  
I'm a little bit uncomfortable with how the conversation is going. "Have you ever wanted to be something other than a baker?"  
"Nope," he smiles. "I used to make little pies out of play-dough when I was little. To hear my dad tell it, I couldn't wait to get into the kitchen."  
"Really?" I ask. "No fireman phase or anything?"  
"None," he smiles. "What about you? What did you want to be when you grew up?"  
"I had a while there where I wanted to be a singer." I admit. "That was fairly short-lived, though, I kind of stopped once I realized I would have to actually sing in front of people. I'm happy with where I work, though. Cinna is a great boss, even if he insists that I shouldn't work on the eighteenth."  
"We might be able to find something for you to do at the bakery," he jokes, and I smile.  
"I'm lousy in the kitchen." I warn him. "Maybe I can do some custodial work."  
"I'll ask for that day off," he tells me. "I mean, if you want me to."  
"That would be fun."  
He beams at me. "Consider it done."  
"You don't have to," I say.  
"I know." he says. "I want to."  
"So it's a date," I say, and he raises his eyebrow.  
I scramble to correct myself. "I mean, um, not like a date but more like _the_ date. Like the day of the month? I just meant that we had made a plan and there was a specified-"  
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, interrupting me.  
"Please." I manage to say.  
He laughs before he leans down and presses his lips to mine.

**Author's Note:  
Firstly, I apologize for poor descriptions of kissing. All I know is from what I've read in books so if it's not realistic or described properly, that's why.  
Secondly, extra mid-week chapter! Yay! I was inspired and I didn't want to wait to publish it. I'm in love with writing this story and while I'd love to stick to a schedule, when my I catch some inspiration, I post as soon as I'm finished with it.  
Thank you so much for all of your kind words! Let me know what you'd like to see in this story, I'm always open to suggestions!  
**


	6. Such Great Heights

I run my hands through my hair, which is still warm from when I straightened it. It's a lame attempt to calm myself down, but it somehow works. I need to stay this way, if not for myself, then for Peeta. Peeta, who had smiled so shyly when he asked if he could take me out on a date and who let out a sigh of relief when I told him yes. For whatever reason, he really wants this date to happen, and I can't cancel it. That's not the real problem, though. The problem is that I don't _want_ to cancel, which can't be normal. If things with Gale hadn't wound up the way that they did, I would be going to my rehearsal dinner with my fiancé tonight, not out on a date with a blue eyed baker that listens to my problems and makes me feel like I'm not going absolutely crazy.  
Maybe I am going crazy. That's the only real explanation.  
A hesitant knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, thankfully. I glance over myself in the mirror, thankful that I haven't done something stupid like started to cry. I don't want to make Peeta be my therapist tonight.  
He beams when he sees me. "You look gorgeous."  
I can feel my cheeks getting hot. "Thanks. You look very handsome."  
He waves the compliment away modestly, and I roll my eyes.  
"It's true." I say, partially because I'm sure that he would say something along those lines if I refused his compliment, but mostly because it is. I've never seen him more dressed up than tonight, in his light gray button down shirt, dark jacket, and dark pants.  
He doesn't even acknowledge this. "Shall we, then?"  
"We shall," I agree, locking the door behind me. "Where are we going?"  
"To the elevator." he gives me a teasing smile, but doesn't offer any more information.  
"Very funny," I reach down and take his hand so that he doesn't think I'm really irritated and add, "I'm going to make a wild guess and say that we'll go to the door afterwards?"  
"I'm afraid that you'll just have to wait and see, Miss Everdeen."  
I lean into him a little bit as we walk. "This is nice,"  
His smile is huge. "I think so, too."

He takes me to a little restaurant downtown with lowlight and dancing. We're just finishing up our dinner when I notice the way that he keeps glancing over to the couples towards the front of the building.  
"Do you know how?" I ask.  
He shakes his head. "No. You?"  
I shrug with one shoulder. "Other than standing on my father's feet when I was little, not really."  
"Do you want to?" he asks.  
"I probably shouldn't stand on your feet." I joke. "At least not in these shoes."  
He chuckles.  
"I'm serious." I say. "Prim gave these to me. The heels are sharp. But if you don't mind my complete and total lack of skills…"  
"I'm not trying to like, bully you into dancing with me or anything." He says softly. "I didn't know that they'd have the band here tonight until after I made the reservation."  
"I'd like to try," I say.  
He grins. "So would I."  
He makes a request to the band that I don't quite catch and we walk hand in hand to the dance floor. We're barely getting started when the next song starts. He grins and tells me that he loves the song and had hoped they knew it. We don't do much more than sway to the beat, which is the same as what we've been doing until now. His lips move along with the lyrics, but just barely.

_I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles  
In our eyes are mirror images and when  
We kiss they're perfectly aligned  
And I have to speculate that God himself  
Did make us into corresponding shapes like  
Puzzle pieces from the clay  
And true, it may seem like a stretch, but  
Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled  
Head when you're away when I am missing you to death  
When you are out there on the road for  
Several weeks of shows and when you scan  
The radio, I hope this song will guide you home_

They will see us waving from such great  
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say  
But everything looks perfect from far away,  
'come down now,' but we'll stay...

I tried my best to leave this all on your  
Machine but the persistent beat it sounded  
Thin upon listening  
and that frankly will not fly. You will hear  
the shrillest highs and lowest lows with  
the windows down when this is guiding you home.

"Thanks," he tells me after a few songs.  
"For what?" I ask. If anything, I should be the one thanking him for everything he's done for me.  
"It's just… this is nice."  
"I think so, too,"

**Author's note:  
Sorry for the late update! I was sick. It's not much of an excuse, but it is one. I do not own "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service, as it is quoted here. I had planned on using "Whistle For The Choir" in this story by The Fratellis, but The Postal Service is reuniting and to celebrate, I haven't listened to much other than them today.  
If I promise to update once weekly, does a set date matter to all of you? I may have to change it to Wednesdays. I'll know for sure by the next chapter.  
Thanks again! **


	7. Prim

My day starts with a phone call.  
"Hey! I didn't wake you up, did I?" Prim asks. I squint at the clock, it's seven. There's no point in even trying to lie to her so she doesn't feel bad.  
"Kinda." I say, rubbing my eyes. "But I'm up now. What's going on?"  
"I wanted to see if you wanted to get some breakfast."  
"I think I have some pop tarts, if you want to come over."  
"No, not like that, silly." She laughs. "I wanted to go out and get something. I'm in the car now… should I pick you up?"  
"Do I have a choice?" I laugh. "Sure. I'll go. Is Rory coming with us?"  
"Nope!"  
I'm about to ask why she's so invested in hanging out with me when I realize what today is. It's the eighteenth, and if Gale and Madge hadn't hit it off, I would have been getting married today. "Where are you?"  
"Um…" she laughs. "I might be right outside your building."  
"How early did you get up?" I ask, trying not to yawn. "You're a teenager. It's Saturday. Sleep in."  
She just laughs. "Come down when you're ready."  
I consider taking a shower and trying to stall, just to get back at her for waking me up so early, but I get ready as quickly as I can. I'm actually excited to catch up with her. Even though we see each other relatively often, I haven't hung out with just Prim in months; one or both of us usually have a Hawthorne with us.  
She honks when she sees me, and reaches over to open the door.  
"How are you doing?" she asks, turning the radio down.  
"I'm fine." I say. "I'm just tired. You?"  
"Oh, I'm fine." She nods. She studies me for a second before she starts to drive. I think she's trying to see if I'm lying or not.  
"How has Rory been?" I ask.  
She smiles. "He's been doing well,"  
"Can you do me a favor?" I ask.  
"What?"  
"Can you make sure that he knows that I don't, you know, blame him for anything that happened?" I pick at my nail polish. "I just realized that he didn't come with us and I figured he might think that I do."  
"Oh, I already told him." She laughs. "I wanted it to just be the two of us today,"  
She definitely knows what today is. I feel doubly bad that I have plans with Peeta now. Not only should I be ashamed to have a date on my wedding day, but Prim woke up just so that she could try to distract me and I have plans with a boy.  
"My boss was worried about me, too," I say. "He hasn't let me work for the last three days."  
"I just haven't really been checking on you as often as I should." She sounds guilty. "We had a Science Fair coming up. I mean, it's no excuse, but…"  
"It's fine," I say. With all the time I've been spending with Peeta, I haven't even really noticed how few texts I've gotten from Prim. "Really, don't worry about it… I actually made a friend." It's not quite a lie, but it's not really the whole truth, either.  
"A friend?" she asks.  
"Try not to sound so shocked," I joke.  
"I'm just happy for you. That's all." She pulls into a Denny's parking lot. "Should I not feel so bad about letting you down in your time of need, then?"  
"You didn't let me down," I tell her.  
"Rory told me that he hasn't taken her to meet his family yet," she says.  
"He hasn't?"  
"Nope. Apparently nobody knew until Rory said anything about her in front of them."  
"Well," I say. "I hope he did his part in sending out the emails, or there are going to be a lot of people showing up at the venue tonight."  
I get a message from Peeta about halfway through our meal. He wants to know how I'm handling things. I tell him that I'm fine.  
"So, tell me about your friend," she suggests.  
"Well, he's a baker."  
"He?" she raises her eyebrows a few times.  
I feel my cheeks getting hot.  
"No!" she laughs. "You're going out with him?"  
"I don't know," I say. "I think so. We went out last night."  
"Where?" I don't hear any judgment in her voice, just excitement. I don't feel any less guilty.  
"He took me to dinner and dancing." I admit, pushing a piece of my pancake into a puddle of syrup.  
"And?"  
"He was just really sweet," I say. "I haven't actually had that much fun in a long time."  
"Is he cute?"  
"Yeah," I say. "I'm crazy, aren't I?"  
"Crazy?"  
"Come on," I say, suddenly afraid of who could be overhearing our conversation. "I was supposed to get married today. This is kind of fast, right?"  
"You took a lot longer getting over him than he did getting over you." She crosses her arms.  
"You don't have to make up excuses for me." I say.  
"I'm not!"  
"Prim," I warn.  
"What?" she asks. "It's not like you're a widow. Live a little."  
I roll my eyes. "Come on, this isn't like me and you know it,"  
"And that's bad because…?"  
"Nice," I try to sound offended, but I wind up laughing instead. "I'm not supposed to get over him this quickly though, am I?"  
She shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine, Katniss. I'm just glad you're not hung up on him. I was kind of afraid of how I was going to find you today. Honestly, if it's between you freaking out about liking a guy and you being all heartbroken over Gale, I like this better."  
I shrug. "I guess so."  
"Hey," she says softly. "I just want you to be happy."  
"I'm basically cheating on Gale, though. Right?"  
"What?"  
"We would have gotten married today and I went out with Peeta last night."  
"Gale broke up with you," she says softly, as if she's afraid to remind me.  
Luckily, I don't have to argue with her, because I get another message from Peeta.  
"Is that him?"  
"Maybe." I say.  
"What does it say?" she leans across the table, trying to get a glimpse. I know that if she thinks I'm lying, she'll just grab my phone.  
"He wants to know if I still want him to get me some work at the bakery." I laugh.  
Now she looks concerned."Are you quitting Cinna's?"  
"What? No." I say. "It's just a joke between us."  
She purses her lips for a second, thinking. "You guys have a date today, don't you?"  
"Well-" I'm about to explain that I don't know if it's a date or not, and say that we didn't even kiss last night, but she cuts me off.  
"I'm sorry!"  
"Don't worry about it," I say. "I had a good time. Peeta and I will probably just meet up later or something,"  
"I can drop you off if you need me to."  
"I'm not in any hurry." I say. "Unless you have plans."  
She turns bright red and mumbles something about Rory wanting to go see a movie. I laugh.  
"I'll text him, then." I say. "Thanks, by the way, for not thinking I'm crazy."  
"I'm your sister. It's kind of my responsibility."

**Author's Note:  
So, I'm going to try to do weekly updates, but honestly, having a set day doesn't work well for me.  
**


	8. Dough

Prim drops me off outside of the bakery, where Peeta and I agreed to wait. I wave until she's out of sight, and, still procrastinating, pull out my phone to check for new messages. There are none. This is it, I have to go in there are meet whatever family is working that day. I just hope that none of them are working the front. Maybe I can sneak in and we can get out without being noticed.  
That hope is shot as soon as I walk in. An older man is running the counter, and his relation to Peeta is unmistakable. "Hello!"  
"Hello, sir." I say, giving him a small wave. I can't help but to scan the room until I find Peeta, who is already on his way over to me.  
"You're Katniss, right?" he asks.  
"Yes," I answer, wishing that he was closer so we could get out.  
"I knew it. I have to say, none of Peeta's descriptions did you justice."  
"You talked about me?" I ask, looking over at him, and he gives me a sheepish smile.  
"Maybe a little,"  
"A little?" the man behind the counter laughs. "He's been talking about you nonstop since the storm."  
"Katniss, this is my dad." He offers, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "Dad, this is Katniss."  
"The guys and your brother would love to meet her. You should bring her back by sometime."  
"They're not here?" he asks.  
"Not today."  
"I thought that Thomas would be here with you. That's why I asked for today off."  
"Nope! It's just me today. I'll be fine."  
"Dad!" he looks a few times between the two of us. "You're not supposed to run the shop alone."  
"I'll be fine. You two go on, have fun for me, alright?"  
"Dad, you know what the doctor said."  
If I was uncomfortable before, it's worse now. I stare at the floor, wishing that I could just disappear.  
"Peeta, it's just one day." His father laughs. "Stop worrying so much."  
"He had a heart attack," Peeta tells me. I can't even decide if I'm grateful to be let in on what they're fighting about. "I tried to convince him to quit but I couldn't, so the doctor had him agree not to run the shop again unless there was somebody with him."  
I make what I hope is an understanding noise, not wanting to take sides.  
"I've been running this place for years," his father argues. "I don't think that one fluke should make me have to close down shop if I can't get help."  
"We can help," I say, more to Peeta than to his father. His father starts to complain, but Peeta rests his head against mine.  
"You don't have to do this."  
"I want to," I say. It's not even a lie. Something about the idea of seeing him in his element is exciting.  
"Are you sure?" he asks.  
"I have to see you in action somehow, right?"  
He laughs. "Have I told you lately that you're incredible?"  
I shrug.  
"You had plans," his father says. "I want you to go."  
"We're staying," Peeta says firmly. "I don't want you here alone."  
He puts his hands up in mock surrender and rolls his eyes. "Fine, but at least clock in."  
Peeta laughs.  
"What?" I ask.  
"I was kidding, you know, when I was talking about finding you work today."  
I can't help but to smile. "Point me to a broom."  
He leads me into the kitchen and helps me into an apron. "It suits you," he tells me, pulling his own apron over his head. I can't imagine how it could possibly suit me when it looks so good on him.  
"So," he says, glancing over at the door, maybe making sure that we're alone. "How are you handling things?"  
"I've been doing pretty well, actually." I say. "I'm even better now,"  
It's cheesy, but he grins. "Yeah, so am I."

"That's… That's not how you do it," he says softly. I can tell that he's trying not to laugh at me.  
"What?" I ask. I've been working on the same ball of dough for what seems like hours now. What is he doing that's so different?  
"Here," he wipes his hands on his apron and comes over to my side of the table. He rests his hands on top of mine and demonstrates exactly how I'm supposed to knead the dough. I'm not even paying attention to what we're doing. It just feels good to be close to him. I lean back so that my back is against his chest.  
"See?" he asks, and I remember that I'm supposed to at least pretend that I'm learning something from his teaching.  
"Not really," I say honestly. "I'm just really bad at this. Maybe I can do something else? I can clean."  
He laughs. "You're not bad."  
"You have ten more rolls than I do."  
"I've been doing this for longer," he points out, resting his chin on my neck. "Do you want to take a break?"  
"I don't know," I say. "I like this."  
He laughs. "Me too,"  
I don't know how long we stand like that. Eventually, he –using both of our hands– starts to divide the dough into perfect little rolls. After three or four, he takes a step back and asks me to try. Mine are less even than his, but he's full of praise.  
He closes the oven and gives me a quick kiss. "Hey, Katniss?" he asks.  
"Yeah?"  
"Thanks for doing this… I want to make it up to you. We'll actually go out sometime. I promise. Anything you want to do,"  
"Well," I say, unable to stop myself from laughing. "I'd like some chocolate cake."

**Author's Note:  
This story has come to a close. There will be an epilogue, which will be uploaded as the next chapter, and then it will be finished. My next fanfic is in the planning stage, and with Comfort Food over, I'll be able to devote the time it deserves and actually work on it.  
Thank you so much for all of the continued support with this story!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

Epilogue:

"Are you sure about this?" I ask as we start on the stairs up to the court.  
He looks at me like I'm crazy. "Are you kidding? Of course I am."  
"That's not what I meant. I just… I don't want you to mess out on having a wedding because of me."  
"What are you suggesting?"  
"That I'll do it. All the planning and all the calling, I can do it again."  
"Katniss,"  
"Only for you. Only ever for you."  
He leans over and kisses my forehead. "You're too good to me. That's not what I want, though. This is what I want. All that matters is that it's you and me."  
"It'll always be you and me."  
"Then let's go!"  
I grin. "I love you."  
"I love you, too."  
"I know you do." I say.

**Author's Note:  
**Sorry! This took forever for me to post and it's so short, but this is where I wanted the story to end. I am currently working on a new project, which you can read the first, drabble length bit of over at Burnt-bread-and-dandelions on Tumblr. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story, and I'm so sorry for the wait.


End file.
